


the tattoo

by thestarsaregivenonceonly



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Couch Sex, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harry Styles Smut, NSFW, Smut, harry styles blurb, harry styles imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 16:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21164504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsaregivenonceonly/pseuds/thestarsaregivenonceonly
Summary: You and Harry finally give in.





	the tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr same username xx

One more day until the weekend. You savored it, knowing you could get through it as you kept your head down, winding through the streets of Los Angeles to his apartment. Nerves, butterflies in your tummy, colliding in the small space with wings of every color, even the ones the human eye cannot see. You pulled your hood over your head and entered his building, shoving your hands in your pockets and praying they wouldn’t be sweaty by the time you reached his floor. 

An inside joke, friends for years. You had showed up at Harry’s apartment drunk one night, and as he had let you inside you took his hand and twirled in a circle, as if dancing. He had laughed, shaking his head, asking you to greet him this way every time you walked in the door. So you couldn’t have sweaty hands, could you? 

The elevator dinged, making you jump. Lost in thought, lost in him as always. When would it end? It was more than a stupid crush, but it felt like one… it was so… intense. Whether or not he felt the same you had no idea, because you were extremely affectionate and physical with one another and always had been. But something sizzled beneath the surface, a small ember just waiting for oxygen to breathe and come to life. 

A knock on the door with a shaking hand, why were you always so fucking nervous? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. It’s only Harry. It’s Harry.

He opened the door wide, beaming. “Hello!” 

You stepped into the space, your head spinning, he was everywhere, it smelled so good. Taking his waiting hand, you twirled slowly underneath it, giggling and doing a little bow afterwards. He clapped, nodding. 

“Well done.” 

“Thank you, I had a good partner.”

“Good? More like fantastic.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” 

He smirked and winked at you, your heart froze in your chest, unable to beat, unable to move. He had never winked at you before. 

“What do you want to watch?” 

Lost in thought, God it smelled so like him. “What?”  
“You alright?”  
“Yes, sorry, what did you say?”

“What do you want to watch?” 

“Criminal Minds, what the fuck else would we watch you hooligan?”

“I deserved that.” 

You plopped down on his couch, comfy and worn with use and love. The phrase ‘make love’ popped into your head out of nowhere, and you felt your face getting hot, a tingle between the legs, please don’t look at me. He was busy flipping Netflix on, thank God. 

“Do you want something to eat?”   
You.

“Wanna order a pizza?” 

Harry stood back up again, turning to face you. “You answer the door like usual?” 

“Yes, sir.” Oh, oh no.

He stopped, his eyes meeting yours. A moment, an electric charge passed in the air between you, and you almost fell to your knees though you were sitting on the couch. A shake of the head, you started the episode and cleared your throat. 

Pizza ordered, arm around your shoulders, gosh he must have just showered he smelled like aftershave and men’s deodorant. It was glorious. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

You turned to look at him and blinked rapidly, face flushing. “Of course, why?”

“You seem lost in your head.” 

“I’m always lost in my head,” you said quietly, turning back to the television. 

“Wanna talk about it?” So sweet. 

“No,” you shook your head quickly. 

“Let’s just get into the show, yeah?”

“Okay.” 

He watched the television for approximately five minutes before lifting the hand over your shoulder and pointing. “That bloke did it.” 

“What?”

“That guy killed her.”   
“How the fuck do you know that?”

“I just do. Do you doubt my detective skills?”

“You’re going off of limited information here.” 

“I”m a really good detective.” 

“What is your evidence then, Detective Styles?” Was this… were you flirting? 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, I’m not spoiling it for you.” 

You scoffed. “Convenient.” 

A knock on the door, both of you jumped. Pizza time. Cheesy and delicious as it was, it felt heavy in your stomach, hard and unsure. There were too many butterflies and not enough room for pizza. 

A sex scene in the middle of the episode, brief and only flashes, and suddenly there it was. Oxygen to the flames, fuel in the form of a visual image. You glanced at him, shifting your lower body. He was watching the show with a clenched jaw, swallowing hard. Feeling your eyes on him, he turned to look at you, smiling warmly. Unable to stop yourself, you smiled back, laughing a little. “Why are you looking at me?”

You hesitated. “Because I want to.” 

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk in the corner of his mouth. “You’re cute.” Oh fuck. 

“Think so?”

“Know so.” 

“Show me your evidence.” 

“The way you tie your shoes is cute. The way you drink your coffee is cute, God forbid it be ordered wrong. The way you walk is cute, the way you laugh is cute…” His voice trailed off and his eyes dropped to your mouth. 

Oh my God, okay, this is happening. Michael Scott flashed through your mind, a scream, okay, it’s happening, it’s happening, you pushed laughter down your throat and tried to focus. You felt delusional with love.   
Nothing else existed for what felt like hours and somehow minutes at the same time. He exhaled slowly, pressed his lips together. “Is… it weird that I really want to kiss you.” 

Oh thank God. 

You kissed him immediately and with urgency, not bothering to respond, why not give him exactly what he wanted. His mouth parted with surprise, he tasted like diet soda and chapstick. A small groan from his chest, slight hesitation before he kissed you back, immediately pulling you to straddle his lap. Zero to one hundred before you had even blinked. His shirt was gone, your shirt was gone, your bra hit the floor, everything was going so fast and yet nowhere near fast enough, I need you, I want you right fucking now. 

“You’re so warm and soft,” he groaned, kissing down your chin to your neck. You whimpered and tugged at his belt, tossing it behind you and knocking the pizza box onto the floor. Both of you laughed loudly, his head falling into your shoulder. Still giggling, you pushed his pants away, almost gasping, he was ready for you, how long had he been like this? You couldn’t remember whether there had been a tent in his pants or not, but it wasn’t important. 

Standing, you tugged the fabric from your lower body and threw it, straddling him again. No thought, no waiting, moving with him immediately, his head fell back and he cried out. 

“Fuck!” Moaning your name, you moved faster, gasping into the side of his neck and nuzzling your nose against it. His hands found your hips and guided your movements until you were bouncing on him faster than you could have imagined. He kept crying out your name, the echoes of your labored breath and moans filling the space with erotic air. 

“Oh, God…” 

“Fuck, I’m close baby…” his voice was low and deep, he came undone, thrusting upward harshly twice through it, his eyes finding yours, his mouth agape with a silent cry. You followed soon after, biting down hard on his neck and grunting. 

When it was over you stayed still for a time, both of you finding your breath again. He wrapped both of his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your hair.   
“Fucking finally,” he muttered. 

You sat up quickly. “What?” 

“I said, fucking finally.” 

“Retweet.” He laughed loudly, you stood and released a soft breath when he pulled out. Sitting next to him on the couch, you blinked in the sunlight, fading away with the day. It was shining across his chest and stomach, lighting the sweat on his skin and making it glow. 

You leaned back, lifting your hands and lining them up in the setting sunlight until the shadows moved across his torso. He watched you with burning eyes, it said it all right there, a twinkle that was a view into the future. You made wings with your fingers and fluttered them slowly over the wings of his tattoo, humming to yourself and breathing deeply.


End file.
